


Seven

by Lexus (Beautiful_Ruin)



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: AU, Eventual Explicit sexual content, F/F, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Past physical abuse, slowish burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:27:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21642985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beautiful_Ruin/pseuds/Lexus
Summary: This is an AU where Seven is freed from slavery by Captain Janeway. Their relationship progresses from there.
Relationships: Kathryn Janeway/Seven of Nine
Comments: 27
Kudos: 145





	1. Freedom

Captain Kathryn Janeway of the starship Voyager tipped back the end of her glass of whiskey – real whiskey, not synthehol – and surveyed the room once more, on the verge of retiring for the evening and trying again tomorrow. She had been here for over an hour, and that was her second glass of whiskey. As she signaled the bartender for her check, her attention was drawn to a haughty voice far off to the left.

“I do not believe you have sufficient coin.”

“What makes you say that, darlin?”

“You have entered this establishment sixteen times over the past sixteen days and have yet to purchase even a single drink.”

Kathryn ran her hand over her mouth to avoid showing her amusement.

“Maybe I been waitin’ for the right drink to come along,” the unkempt man countered.

“Inaccurate. All drinks are available nightly and do not rotate.”

“Right, I forgot. You machines ain’t fit to understand a metaphor.”

Kathryn watched the Borg stiffen and raise to her full height.

“I am _not_ a machine.”

Something about the tone of the woman’s voice alerted the captain that there was about to be ugliness and possibly bloodshed, and she might miss her opportunity, so she stood from her table and tossed a bag of coins across the room, which the Borg easily caught, as she had known would be the case. “I have sufficient coin,” she said, her tone somewhere between promise and professional.

Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One, stepped away from the malodorous male and toward the formidable-looking female in the Starfleet uniform. “ _You_ wish to hire me?” Blue eyes raked the woman’s form, sizing her up within a microsecond as she closed the distance between them, one eyebrow raised.

“I do,” Kathryn said smoothly. “Is that a problem?”

Seven of Nine scrutinized her for a moment, scanning for any insincerity, and then inclined her head slightly. “I believe I have just experienced what humans refer to as surprise. However, I have no objection.”

The look in the blonde’s eyes made Kathryn wish this wasn’t a Starfleet mission. She hadn’t expected the Borg to be so… beautiful. In her experience, Borg did not look anything like this. But in her experience, they were not severed from the Collective. “Please lead the way,” she said, her voice soft and silky.

“You will follow me,” Seven of Nine stated simply, then turned and walked to the stairs at the back of the room, beginning to ascend without looking to see if her new client was following.

Kathryn exhaled a guarded sigh of relief. She had made it past the first hurdle. She left additional coin on the table to cover her drinks and winked at the array of staring men as she followed the Borg up the stairs… then ignored the catcalls that erupted behind them.

Seven of Nine reached the apex of the staircase and turned left, taking twenty-seven steps down the hall before unlocking a door on the left-hand side and preceding the Starfleet officer into her room. Once the woman was fully inside she shut the door and engaged the locks, as was protocol of the establishment. Daimon Malak did not want to chance displeasing clients with interruptions.

Kathryn looked around at the sparse décor – a throw rug in the center of the room, a painting of a landscape on one wall, and a lamp in one corner – and even sparser furniture. There was a bed and a Borg alcove, and that was it. She imagined any clothing was in the closet, as there was no bureau. She was still getting her bearings when the Borg spoke.

“Remove your clothing and inform me of what you enjoy.”

“Woah,” Kathryn said, taken slightly aback. “You’re moving a little fast, don’t you think? Let’s start with your name.”

“My designation is Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One.”

“Yes, but what is your name?” Kathryn pressed.

“Irrelevant.” She saw a shadow cross the older woman’s features and an air of superiority settled over her own. “Your sentimentality is also irrelevant.”

“Do you get many repeat customers, speaking to them like that?” the captain asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I am typically sent Klingons or Zaldans. I have many ‘repeat’ customers.”

“I see. And what if I told you it’s not sentimentality but curiosity. Is curiosity irrelevant, Seven of Nine?”

“Curiosity about relevant information is not irrelevant. Curiosity about another’s inactive designation is irrelevant.”

“What sort of information do you find relevant?”

“Strength. Stamina. Offensive capabilities. Defensive capabilities. Efficiency.”

“What about feelings? Likes, dislikes, hopes, dreams?”

The Borg’s upper lip curled into a sneer. “ _Feelings_ are irrelevant.”

Kathryn tilted her head to the side and regarded the woman for a moment before saying quietly, “I disagree.”

“Your agreement is unnecessary. Remove your clothing and inform me of what you enjoy.”

“I don’t typically remove my clothing until I’ve made some sort of connection with the person who wants me to remove it.”

Seven of Nine stood up straighter and clasped her hands behind her back. “Do you typically engage the services of a whore without intending to copulate?”

“Copul—oh my,” Kathryn said, shaking her head with a chuckle. “I typically engage the services of a _companion_ ,” she said, emphasizing the word, “when I seek companionship.”

“You do not approve of my word choice. Your pity is unnecessary.”

“It’s not pity so much as respect,” Kathryn explained.

“If it were respect you would have already removed your clothing and informed me of what you enjoy, as I have repeatedly requested.”

“What if I would like you to remove your clothing?”

“I will not comply.”

“Why not? You expect me to remove mine.”

“You are the client.”

Kathryn raised a challenging eyebrow. “That is irrelevant.” She tried throwing some of the Borg’s logic back at her.

“It is highly relevant,” the Borg argued. “The client must undress so the _companion_ can most efficiently provide stimulation.”

Janeway would have been lying if she said the situation wasn’t tempting her. Well… not so much the situation as the attractive blonde continually demanding that she remove her clothing. “What if I’m not looking for efficiency?” she tried.

“Then you are flawed.”

The captain barked out a laugh at that, shaking her head at the woman. “Seven of Nine,” she began, taking a step closer. “That was _very_ rude.”

Seven of Nine bristled perceptibly and narrowed her eyes. “And _you_ are inhibiting my primary function.”

“Why can’t we just talk for a bit?” Kathryn asked more gently.

Seven of Nine resisted the urge to turn her head away, to hide the weakness she knew would linger in her eyes as she explained why they could not. “Because we have one hour. If you do not leave here sated properly I will receive punishment.”

Kathryn noted a flicker of fear dart across the Borg’s face and disappear as suddenly as it had arrived. The idea of this woman being punished in a way that would frighten a Borg was too terrible to consider. She could not make herself ask for more details. “Why do you stay here?” she asked instead.

Seven of Nine indicated the band around her left wrist. “This is a magnetic containment field inducer. Were I to take one step outside or be transported out of this building, the field would activate and I would either be tractored back inside or my implants would be torn from my body, killing me within seconds.”

Kathryn couldn’t help the horrified gasp that left her lips or the way she reached for the woman, intending to lay a hand on her arm. To give her something besides the roughness and cruelty she was used to.

The Borg moved out of reach, her nostrils flaring with anger. “What are you doing? I told you, your pity is unnecessary.”

“Do you not find it unacceptable, the way you’re treated?” Kathryn asked gently.

“My findings are irrelevant.” Her voice was now raised.

“No,” Kathryn insisted. “They aren’t. They are highly relevant.”

“They are useless; impractical; futile.” Some of the anger drained away, replaced by resignation. “Resistance is futile.”

The irony in that was not lost on Kathryn but she withheld comment, not wanting to alienate the woman further. “If you could remove the device, would you leave here?”

“Without question. If I could remove the device, the Ferengi overseers would be slaughtered before I would seek a way to contact the Collective to retrieve me.”

“You still want to return to the Collective?” Kathryn asked, surprised.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Speculation is irrelevant. I cannot remove the device. I have tried many times, though I received punishment each time. Were it not for my nanoprobes, I could offer you evidence.”

“What if I could remove the device?”

“I would be in your debt. However, I do not have confidence that you would succeed.” She paused, her brows knitting in thought. “Why would you attempt this? If you falsify your answer, I will harm you.”

A tiny smirk pulled at one corner of the captain’s mouth as she regarded the blonde. “All right. My reason is twofold. The first is why I came here and the second developed after meeting you.”

When the Starfleet officer paused, Seven of Nine prompted her. “Elaborate.”

“I came here hoping for information, but if you intend to return to the Collective, I doubt you’ll be willing to indulge me.”

“And the second reason?” The second reason should be irrelevant, but for some prickling, strange reason it did not seem so. Seven of Nine found herself… curious.

“The second reason is that having met you and spoken with you; having heard how you are treated here, I cannot leave you here. It would be wrong.”

“Sentimentality, as I earlier suspected,” the Borg said, her distaste evident. “Sentiment will be your species’ undoing. It creates chaos from order; creates disharmony from unity. Causes you to take unnecessary risks whose benefits do not outweigh them. It is foolish.”

“Perhaps. I must admit, though, I find assimilating people and cultures to be foolish.”

The Borg’s hackles rose and she nearly hissed the word. “ _Explain_!”

“You seek to add to your perfection; am I correct?”

“Yes. Proceed.”

“By definition, you can’t add to perfection. If you must add to it to achieve perfection, then it was imperfect to begin with. Your entire philosophy is flawed and redundant. Something cannot be more perfect than perfect. Perfection is absolute.”

Seven of Nine’s metal-infused hand was around the Starfleet officer’s throat almost before she even finished speaking, the woman pressed firmly into the nearest wall. “You will cease your falsehoods!”

Janeway kept her composure despite the chill of fear that snaked up her spine. “I will not comply,” she said calmly.

“You will comply!” the Borg shouted, tightening her grip until she heard a key in the lock behind her and she released the woman, her hand going slack. “No,” she whispered, looking pleadingly at her client.

“What’s happening?” Kathryn asked as the door began to open.

“They monitor my biorhythms,” Seven of Nine explained in a hushed voice. “I became angry. They were informed.”

“I’ll handle it,” Kathryn whispered, then stepped between the approaching Ferengi and the Borg. “What is the meaning of this interruption? Your daimon will not be pleased when he hears about this.”

One of the Ferengi pointed his phaser at her. “We have our orders. We must take her downstairs. She has become angry and that is against the rules. She is not permitted to raise her voice to clients. Daimon Malak offers his most sincere apologies and his promise that she will be punished.”

Kathryn adopted a lazy, hedonistic expression and chuckled low in her throat, walking slowly over to the Ferengi and slinging an arm around each of their shoulders. “Boys, boys… isn’t the rule that she do whatever the client asks of her?”

“Well yes, but—”

“Angry and loud is the way I like it,” she said conspiratorially with a wink. Ferengi were so easy to manipulate. “She was following my orders, boys. You two are the ones displeasing a client. Should we call for the daimon, or do you think you can persuade me to keep this between us?”

Their demeanor changed instantly and they both fell all over themselves trying to apologize. “Please, Captain, what can we offer you to keep this between us?”

“Yes,” the other Ferengi added eagerly. “There is surely no need to alert the daimon of our mistake. Would you care for some lobi crystals, or perhaps—”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I would care for some lobi crystals,” Kathryn said with a nod, removing her arms from their shoulders. “If you keep some behind the front desk for me, I won’t mention this to Daimon Malak.”

“Yes! Yes, of course! We will fill a case and personally see that it is kept secure in wait for you! Oh, thank you, Captain, you will not regret this!”

“Run along now… and disengage the biorhythm monitor for the next hour, please. I wouldn’t want anyone else to make the same mistake, of course.”

“Of course! Right away, Captain!” One of the Ferengi took out a medical monitoring device from his belt holster and started frantically pressing buttons.

“ _Biorhythm monitoring deactivated_ ,” the device informed them.

“Wonderful, boys. Enjoy your reprieve,” she said as she ushered them out the door, re-engaging the locking mechanism once they were gone. She turned to find the Borg standing in the same place, shaking. She moved quickly over and was relieved when the blonde finally did not rebuke a comforting hand on her arm. “Seven… I am getting you out of here,” she promised resolutely, seething anger bubbling up at the multitude of beings that had been abusing this woman.

***

B’Elanna Torres growled in frustration, turning away from the Captain and the Borg momentarily. “ _Petahk_!”

Seven of Nine raised an eyebrow. “Recalibrate the ion flow to—”

“Already did that. No effect.”

“Could you employ an inertial dampener—”

“Not without alerting the Ferengi to what we’re doing, and it likely wouldn’t produce the result we want anyway.”

Seven of Nine clenched her jaw in irritation, both at the engineer and the situation. She was not accustomed to being unsuccessful at anything.

“I have an idea,” Janeway spoke up, tapping her comm badge. “Janeway to Voyager.”

“Yes, Captain?”

“Lieutenant Tuvok, please beam me down a pair of industrial grade bolt cutters.”

“Aye, Captain.”

A second later she was holding a pair of formidable-looking bolt cutters. “That thing may be technologically advanced beyond our capabilities to deactivate, but it can’t withstand good old brute force. Seven, hold out your arm.”

Both Seven and B’Elanna were staring at her in utter horror, but the Borg complied, offering her left arm.

Janeway slid one blade carefully between the band and Seven’s skin, aligning the cutters to the best angle possible, and with one crushing contraction the blades came together, slicing right through the metal, and the Borg grabbed the bracelet with her other hand immediately, tearing it off before it had a chance to re-fuse, just in case.

Breathing hard, she looked at the Starfleet officers, suddenly overcome with emotion that she had no idea how to process, so she expressed herself in the way she had done for the past five years, grabbing the Captain around the collar of her uniform and kissing her.

B’Elanna was instantly uncomfortable and tapped her comm badge so quickly that she missed the first time. “Voyager, one to beam up. Now.”

Janeway’s eyes widened, a hand coming up to gently push at Seven’s shoulder, effectively ending the kiss. “You don’t have to do that anymore, Seven,” she breathed, though the Borg’s lips were impossibly soft and it would be very easy to lose herself in the sensation.

“I did not know how else to express my gratitude,” Seven of Nine explained. Her brow furrowed as she thought further, then added almost hesitantly, “and I found I… wanted to.”

“Wanted to express your gratitude?”

“Wanted to kiss you. You are the first person to rebuff my advances and I believe that magnified the desire to gain your compliance. Additionally, your form is… aesthetically appealing.”

Kathryn blushed a little and laid a hand on Seven’s cheek. “You mean you think I’m pretty?” she whispered.

Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One, analyzed her reaction to the captain’s aesthetic form in comparison to the human phrase and found compatibility. “Yes. You do not find me aesthetically appealing; that is why you prematurely ended the kiss.”

“Oh no, Seven,” Kathryn shook her head. “That isn’t the reason at all. I find you very aesthetically appealing. I ended the kiss because I would never want you to feel obligated to be with me in that way.”

“Your nobility is unnecessary.”

“Be that as it may, I try not to stray from my principles. Are you ready to go?”

“I have no personal effects. Your ship is armed with photon torpedoes; correct?”

“Yes. Why?”

“To destroy this oppressive establishment.”

Janeway blinked. “I cannot allow that.”

Seven’s expression went from neutral to angry in an instant. “So you are my owner now?”

Stunned momentarily speechless, the captain had to force herself to explain. “No, I wouldn’t dream of it,” she said sincerely. “But I cannot allow my ship’s torpedoes to destroy anything without provocation.”

“Keeping slaves does not present as provocation?” The Borg again raised her voice, this time unworried about doing so.

“Keeping slaves presents as provocation for arrest, trial and imprisonment in a Federation facility. I am governed by a set of regulations that I cannot stray from. Please understand. They will be punished.”

“Not nearly enough!” the Borg raged, starting to pace back and forth in front of the other woman. She stopped a few seconds later and faced the captain, their eyes locked on each other. “I was secured to a post in the dungeon. Daimon Malak burned through my skin, my muscles, my vascular tissue until my abdominal implant was exposed. He then used electricity to torture me for the better part of a day. As my nanoprobes began to heal me, he repeatedly burned through the regenerated tissue in order to maintain access to the internal part of my implant. This was because I complained about a physically aggressive client.”

Kathryn was, in a word, horrified. Her eyes pricked with tears by the time Seven had finished speaking, and she debated allowing the request and logging the incident as a torpedo malfunction. But she couldn’t, no matter how much she wanted to. However, there was one thing she could do, and as she swiped at her eyes she lowered her voice to convey a deeper meaning with her simple words. “I will beam you up in fifteen minutes.”

Seven hadn’t expected her story to affect the other woman quite like it did, and she was surprised by this woman for the second time in one evening. She did not waste time declaring that sentiment was unnecessary, she merely nodded. “Understood, Captain.”

“Janeway to Voyager.”

“Yes, Captain?”

“Captain to beam up. Maintain a sensor lock on Seven of Nine and prepare to beam her aboard in fifteen minutes, at my command.”

“Aye, Captain. Sensor locked on. Engaging transporter.”

Kathryn nodded back at the Borg before she was returned to her ship.


	2. Nightmares

Fifteen minutes later she met Seven in transporter room one. The Borg looked disheveled but unharmed and she breathed a sigh of relief. “Are you all right?”

“I am undamaged.”

“Come with me.”

“Yes, Captain.” She stepped off the transporter pad and clasped her hands behind her back, following the captain at an efficient pace through the corridors of the ship.

Janeway stopped just outside sick bay and turned to the Borg. “Would you allow our doctor to perform a scan, just to be on the safe side?”

“That will be unnecessary. I am undamaged.”

“Please?”

Seven of Nine did not know how to categorize the expression on the Starfleet officer’s face. She had never encountered it directly. It was effective, she realized, and gave a brief nod. “I will comply.”

“Thank you,” Janeway said with a sigh of relief, stepping forward to engage the doors. “Computer, activate emergency medical holographic program.”

The doctor flickered to life in front of them. “Please state the nature of the medical emergency.”

“There is no emergency,” the Borg said haughtily. “The captain has deceived you.”

Janeway couldn’t help a snicker, laying a hand on Seven’s shoulder and explaining the doctor’s behavior. “That is just his ice breaker, so to speak.”

“I do not understand.”

“Which of you is in need of medical attention?” the doctor said, already getting testy. “I am a very busy man.”

“Inaccurate,” the Borg responded. “You—"

“Seven, please have a seat,” Janeway interrupted. “Doctor, I would just like you to do a cursory scan and make sure she isn’t hurt anywhere that I can’t see.”

Blue eyes snapped from the doctor to the captain. “Why did you not simply ask me to remove my dress? You could have ascertained that I am undamaged in a much more efficient manner than traveling through the ship, activating a holographic medical practitioner and using energy to perform a scan.”

“We don’t go around disrobing on Federation starships,” Janeway said, trying to keep her reaction to the suggestion minimal.

The doctor frowned as he concluded the scan. “Multiple healed fractures, Captain, but nothing current.”

Seven shifted uncomfortably but remained quiet.

“Thank you, Doctor.” Kathryn did her best to maintain a neutral expression while on the inside her heart was breaking. What horrors had this woman not endured?

The Borg raised an eyebrow, addressing the captain. “Captain, your heart rate has increased by twelve point four percent.”

Kathryn gave her a wistful smile, nodding toward the door. “Come on.”

***

For reasons she could not (or perhaps wished not to) fathom, when presented with a choice of personal quarters, Seven of Nine chose the room nearest the captain’s quarters. She had been fed as much as she desired to eat and then permitted to return to her quarters alone. A hot shower had proved refreshing and she replicated silk pants and a camisole to sleep in. Captain Janeway had beamed her Borg alcove to Cargo Bay 2, and then to her quarters once she had chosen them, but she only needed to use it if she failed to sleep for several nights in a row.

She had only been asleep for several hours when she woke up screaming, drenched in sweat.

***

A blood-curdling scream jolted the captain awake, and as soon as she got her bearings she realized it was Seven. She threw on a robe and rushed the short distance to Seven’s quarters, dismissing the other officers who had heard the noise and come into the hallway to investigate. She let herself in and made her way to the bed as the doors whooshed shut behind her. Seven was sitting up, drenched through her night clothes, breathing erratically.

“Seven, it’s Captain Janeway,” she whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Seven of Nine recognized the captain’s scent before her vision even focused enough to recognize the woman. “I am sorry for disturbing you,” she said quickly. “I will be returning to the Collective shortly and you will no longer be forced to tolerate the inconvenience.”

Kathryn scooted closer and laid a hand on Seven’s knee. “I assure you, you are not an inconvenience, nor have you disturbed me.” She gave a light squeeze. “Was it a nightmare?”

“Unknown. I have no experience from which to draw. I do not usually dream at all.”

“So you don’t remember why you woke up so distraught?”

“I do not.”

“I suppose that may be a blessing in this case,” Kathryn said gently. “Seven… I am so, so sorry for everything you have endured. I can’t even imagine—”

“Captain Janeway, I have told you repeatedly that your sentiment is unnecessary. Why do you continue to offer such platitudes?”

“Because I am deeply disturbed by what has happened to you. Sentiment may be unnecessary to you, but that doesn’t keep me from feeling it.”

Seven hesitated for a moment, a billion thoughts firing across her synapses at once. “You… liberated me and allowed me revenge. Your efforts are responsible for my freedom. Perhaps you can take comfort in that.”

Kathryn’s mouth twitched into a smile and she gave Seven’s knee another gentle squeeze. “You’re getting the hang of sentiment after all.” The look on the Borg’s face was priceless and she forced down a laugh, not wanting Seven to think she was laughing _at_ her. “Tomorrow, I will find a way for you to contact your ship and make arrangements to go home.”

“You will allow me to leave without providing the information you seek?”

With the Borg’s hair down for sleep, Kathryn couldn’t resist trailing her fingers through the loose blonde strands, watching them drift back down to settle around the woman’s shoulders. “You are not my prisoner, Seven. I would never keep you from going home.”

“I do not know how to respond to your continued acts of kindness.”

Janeway smirked a little as she leaned closer, putting her lips to the Borg’s ear. “You could say thank you.”

Seven of Nine felt her heart beat faster with something other than fear for the first time in a long time. She sucked in a shallow breath and forced herself to let it out slowly. “Thank you,” she finally said once the captain had moved back out of her immediate space.

“You’re welcome,” Kathryn said as she rose from the bed. “Do you think you can sleep now?”

“I think I prefer to remain awake for the remainder of the night, Captain. I will not trouble you again.”

“It was no trouble, Seven,” Kathryn insisted. “I’ll see you in the morning, then. If you need anything else tonight, you know where I’ll be.”

“I will be fine. I am merely unaccustomed to sleeping alone or going this long without copulation.”

Kathryn nearly choked on the air she breathed in far too fast, turning wide eyes on Seven. “Please, call it sex, Seven,” she requested.

The Borg debated it momentarily and then nodded. “I will comply.”

“Thank you,” Kathryn said with a nod of her own, then slipped out the door, a pink tinge to her cheeks.


	3. I Choose to Stay

“Security to the observation lounge!”

Captain Janeway was out of her chair in an instant, tapping her comm badge. “Belay that order. I’m on my way.”

Precisely two minutes and twelve seconds later she was stepping into the observation lounge, viewing the destruction that Seven had been causing over the last few minutes. The table was overturned, chairs smashed to pieces, the communications device shattered, and the Borg was pounding on one of the windows, screaming. “Seven!” she called, raising her voice just enough to be heard over the anguished cries.

When she heard Captain Janeway’s voice, Seven crumpled to the floor, bleeding from her face, her arms and her knuckles. “Captain Janeway,” she managed to force a greeting, though her voice kept breaking.

“What happened, Seven?” Kathryn asked, lowering herself to a crouch beside the Borg. When Seven finally looked at her she almost gasped to see tears streaking her gorgeous face.

“They do not accept me. They will not take me back.”

“What?” In all her life, she had never heard of the Borg refusing to assimilate anyone. “Why?”

“I am damaged. My experiences since I was severed from the Collective would harm it. My nightmares would harm it. I am damaged,” Seven repeated.

“Oh, Seven, I am so sorry,” Kathryn said, carefully laying a hand on Seven’s shoulder. “But listen to me. We will take you anywhere you wish to go… however, you are most welcome here.” She hesitated and then added, “I would very much like it if you stayed with us.”

“You must move the ship away from these coordinates at high warp,” Seven said suddenly. “I negotiated your safety but I do not trust the Collective to keep its word.”

“Janeway to Paris.”

“Paris here.”

“Set a course away from here at maximum warp.”

“Any destination in mind?”

“No, Mr. Paris, just away from here. Right now.”

“Aye, Captain. Laying in a course, heading 159 mark 7-7.”

As the ship went to warp, Kathryn turned back to Seven. “Would you come with me to sick bay? You’re bleeding.”

“I deserve my injuries for destroying your observation lounge. I will attempt to correct my mistakes and return the room to its previous configuration.”

“In Starfleet, we value people far more than we value material objects. If you insist on cleaning up your mess once the doctor has cleared you, I give you my word I will allow you to do so, but healing your injuries comes first.”

“You are not angry.”

“No.”

“Explain.”

“You didn’t hurt anyone, Seven. You destroyed a few chairs and a comm device after being devastated.”

“Abandoned.”

“By the Collective, yes. But not by us. Not by me. Please come to sick bay?”

“I do not understand why I find it difficult to deny you this or anything else,” Seven said with a frown, rising to her feet. “Proceed.”

***

By the time they reached sick bay, Seven’s nanoprobes had healed most of the damage, but the cut across her forehead remained, and the doctor quickly closed it with the dermal regenerator. “You are free to go,” he informed his patient.

Captain Janeway was waiting outside and when Seven emerged, she offered a smile. “Will you accompany me to the mess hall for something to eat? I’d like to discuss your plans and offer any insight I might have in order to assist you. Unless of course you already know what you wish to do.”

Seven’s step faltered but she followed the captain toward the mess hall. “I do not,” she admitted with some difficulty. Indecision was not commonplace in the life of a Borg drone, and since being severed from the Collective and imprisoned by the Ferengi, she had not been permitted to make her own decisions, so this was a novel feeling. “It is unsettling.”

“You’re used to knowing exactly which course of action to take, I reckon,” the captain said as the mess hall doors whooshed open. There were only a few people inside as it was off hours, between breakfast and lunch. That suited her nicely. She noticed Seven became more uncomfortable the more people she was around at one time.

Seven followed the captain to a corner table and they sat opposite each other. “Yes. Not knowing what to do is causing me a great deal of discomfort. However, it is not your problem, Captain Janeway. I do not wish to inconvenience you further.”

Kathryn reached across the table on instinct to take Seven’s hand, giving it an encouraging squeeze. “I have already told you, you are not an inconvenience. I am not in the habit of telling lies, Seven.”

“Of course, Captain. I did not mean to imply you were being dishonest.”

Janeway pulled her hand back when she heard a throat clear beside them. “Mr. Neelix,” she said, slowly turning to face him.

“Good morning, Captain. And Ms…?”

“Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct to—”

“You may call her Seven, Mr. Neelix,” the captain interrupted.

“Ms. Seven,” Neelix said brightly. “And might I say what a lovely morning it is!”

“We are in space,” Seven said bluntly. “It is not lovely. It is vast and barren.”

Neelix started to frown but quickly found his footing. “Ahh, but not if you come upon a nebula or an intriguing star system…”

“Nebulae are interstellar clouds of matter,” Seven continued to argue. “Sensors malfunction and systems experience interruptions. There is nothing lovely about them unless you enjoy being blind.”

Kathryn hid her smile behind a hand, feigning a mild cough. “What’s on the menu, Mr. Neelix?” she interrupted the exchange.

Neelix floundered for a moment before answering the question. “Leola root omelets,” he finally announced. “Two, I presume?”

It took everything in her not to groan, but she didn’t want to use replicator rations if she could avoid it, so she nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

“Coming right up!” Neelix said with his usual exuberance, clapping his hands and disappearing into the back.

“You do not wish to consume this leola root omelet,” Seven observed casually.

Kathryn’s eyes snapped to the Borg’s. “Am I that obvious?”

“Every muscle in your jaw constricted. You swallowed one point four times harder than usual.”

A laugh escaped the captain before she could think better of it, and her eyes sparkled as she regarded the other woman. “I’ll have to be careful around you,” she decided, the laugh quieting to a little chuckle. “I won’t be able to hide anything.”

“What would you wish to hide?” Seven inquired, head tilting slightly.

“Nothing specific,” Kathryn replied. “I just mean if the situation ever comes up.”

Neelix arrived with their food and set it down, standing with his hands clasped, waiting for them to try it.

Seven shot him a questioning look. “Is it customary among your species for the serving staff to remain at the table and stare at the patrons after delivering their food?”

“Seven!” the captain scolded before Neelix had a chance to respond. “Mr. Neelix is not serving staff, he is a member of this crew. Nor would we treat him in such a manner if he were serving staff. We respect each other around here, every one of us.”

Seven studied her for a few seconds before cutting a bite of her omelet and spearing it with her fork. “Noted.”

“Thank you, Mr. Neelix,” Janeway told her dear friend, knowing he would understand and not be as offended as some others might have been.

“You are very welcome, Captain,” Neelix said, spinning on his heels and going to check on another table.

The captain was about to start eating when Seven spit her food back onto her plate. 

“Do not consume that, Captain. Your crew member is attempting to poison us.” She started to rise from her chair but felt a hand close around her wrist and tug her back down. She complied for the moment, though her head tipped in confusion. “You do not wish me to neutralize him?”

“It’s not poison, Seven, though I admit it can taste that way. It’s just the leola root. Its acrid bitterness actually belies the fact that it is indeed a very healthy food.”

“I will not consume this healthy food,” Seven stated plainly.

“So… taste is relevant?” Kathryn asked, compiling a mental list of things the Borg found relevant.

“In this case, Captain Janeway, I believe taste is relevant.”

Kathryn smiled and took a bite of her own omelet. “Have you given any thought to whether you might like to stay aboard Voyager?”

“Are you referring to the interval between leaving the observation lounge and arriving at the mess hall or the interval between arriving at the mess hall and the present moment?”

If she didn’t know better, the captain would have thought that was sarcasm, or at least something close. “Either,” she indulged the question.

“In both instances, yes, I have given it thought. It did not require much, however. I have nowhere else to go. If you wish me to stay here, I choose to stay.”

Something settled over her that Kathryn couldn’t quite pinpoint, but a large part of it she recognized as relief. She wanted Seven to stay. “Wonderful,” she said with a genuine smile. Even the leola root omelet couldn’t ruin her mood now. “What sort of job do you think you might enjoy?”

Seven’s head tilted slightly. “You would not wish me to provide sex for the crew?”

The captain literally choked on her coffee, sending it spewing across the table, fortuitously dousing her omelet. All eyes in the mess hall, few as they may have been, were suddenly on her.

Seven stood from her chair. “Do you require assistance?”

“No, I’m fine,” Janeway said, holding up a hand to forestall any rescue attempts. “Just went down the wrong pipe.” She coughed a few more times to get the tickle out as Seven retook her seat. Once the other patrons went back to their own conversations, she leaned forward and spoke quietly to the Borg. “You are free to have sex at your leisure, of course, but it is no longer your occupation or your obligation. I did not ask you to stay so that we could use you, Seven… I asked you to stay because you need a home; a family… and because I like you.”

Seven hadn’t known what to expect, but the captain’s answer had her breathing a sigh of relief without even realizing it. “In that case, Captain, I would be most efficient in engineering. I am also capable of filling any tactical or scientific vacancies but I believe the best utilization of my knowledge and abilities would be in engineering.”

“We happen to need people in engineering,” Janeway said, having recovered fully from the effects of Seven’s previous question.

“I will require sex regularly, however, until I become accustomed to being alone. Would you please provide recommendations in this area?”

It was a short-lived recovery and now her cheeks were bright red. She hoped no one looked their way at the moment. “That is not an area that a starship captain may provide recommendations in,” she tried to explain. “I’m afraid you’ll have to do without me on that one.”

Seven hid her disappointment well, simply nodding in agreement. “Understood, Captain.”

***

Kathryn squeezed her pillow around her ears in an attempt to block out the sounds of sex coming from Seven’s room. Perhaps she should have given the woman some recommendations after all – she would have suggested someone quieter. Whoever was in there with Seven was unreasonably loud.

She was literally on the verge of calling security to intervene when the noises finally stopped. “Thank heavens,” she muttered under her breath, finally able to use her pillow the way it was meant to be used and start to fall asleep.


	4. Comfort

Seven woke up screaming again in the middle of the night, clutching at her sheets and tearing them to shreds until she slowly realized she was in her quarters on Voyager.

She felt the bed shift, a weight beside her, and she smelled Captain Janeway. That was enough to help her breathe a little easier, though her chest was still rising and falling far more rapidly than normal. “Captain Janeway,” she managed to say.

Kathryn had been jolted awake again and hurried to Seven’s quarters, not even thinking about the fact that the Borg might still have had company until it was too late and she was already sitting beside Seven on the bed, but fortunately the room was otherwise empty. “I’m here, Seven,” she offered, instinctively reaching a hand around to rub up and down the distraught woman’s back.

It was more difficult to calm down this time. She still didn’t remember what the dream had been about, she just knew it was worse than before. “You should put me off your ship,” she said in a strained voice. “You cannot sleep.”

“I was awake anyway,” Kathryn lied.

“You are lying,” Seven sniffed, wiping her eyes with the heel of one hand. “To alleviate my burden of guilt.”

“Yes,” Kathryn chuckled. “I knew I wouldn’t be able to hide anything from you. But you have no reason to feel guilty, my dear. I don’t sleep well on the best of nights. This is not as much of an interruption to my routine as you might think.”

“I see.”

“Do you know what was an enormous interruption to my routine, however?”

“Obviously I would not be able to know that.”

“I’ll tell you,” Kathryn said with a smirk. “Extremely loud sex in the room next to mine. That was quite the interruption to my routine.”

“You are referring to the noises that Ensign Dalton was emitting.”

“I am.”

“He proved unsuitable. Perhaps all humans are unsuitable.”

“What makes you say that?”

“He was not amenable to being struck, choked or restrained. His strength and stamina also did not match my own.”

Kathryn shot off the bed in an instant, hating how easily this woman could make her blush.

“Have I said something wrong?”

“No, no,” Kathryn assured her. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

Seven studied her for a moment. “Sex is a very uncomfortable topic for you, Captain. I wish to know why.”

Kathryn cursed the woman’s insight and ran her hands over her face, shaking her head. “It’s difficult to explain,” she finally said, her tone gentle as she re-took her seat on the edge of the bed. “In Starfleet we have rules and regulations. Principles that we cannot stray from or we risk compromising the efficiency and cohesivity of our crews. As the captain, I must remain professional and objective at all times. Sex is neither a professional nor an objective activity, so the topic is infrequent and I am unaccustomed to discussing it.”

Seven considered that briefly and tilted her head, lips pursed. “I fail to understand how discussing sex can lead to inefficiency or lack of cohesion.”

“Because it is distracting. It tends to occupy one’s thoughts at inopportune times. For example, if B’Elanna Torres were thinking about sex while trying to recalibrate the warp coils, there could be a catastrophic mistake.”

“So I am superior in my ability to singularly focus without distraction regardless of having engaged in unprofessional or subjective activities? This is not something humans are capable of?”

A tiny smile tugged at one corner of her mouth as Kathryn reached out and trailed her fingers through Seven’s hair. “Seven, you are human,” she whispered. “Perhaps you have more of an advantage in the objectivity department given your history with the Borg, but you are very much human.”

Seven’s eyes fluttered shut at the touch despite her next sentence. “You are in error, Captain Janeway.”

Kathryn had half a dozen indecent thoughts at the look on Seven’s face, but she forged ahead without acting on them. “If I were in error… if you were not human… you would not need sex at all.”

Seven’s eyes flew open and she moved her head out of the captain’s reach. “Fine. I will go without sex.”

“No, that’s not—” Kathryn stopped and shook her head. “I apologize,” she said, reaching for Seven’s hair again, grateful when it was allowed even though the Borg looked skeptical. “I should not be applying my own personal standards to you. If you don’t want to consider yourself human, who am I to contradict you? Maybe someday you’ll change your mind, but it won’t be at my insistence. Please don’t deny yourself something you need because of my thoughtless rhetoric…”

“Thoughtless rhetoric,” Seven repeated, absently leaning into the captain’s hand. “Doesn’t rhetoric by definition require thought?”

Janeway laughed and allowed her hand to drop back to her side. “I suppose you’re right.”

Seven instantly missed the touch, almost going so far as to chase it, but she composed herself and remained upright. “I will employ the use of a voice dampener in my future sexual encounters,” she declared instead.

Kathryn covered her face with both hands, her cheeks flaming yet again. “You mean you’re going to gag your partners?”

“If necessary to avoid interrupting your routine, yes,” Seven agreed.

“I don’t know how many people on this ship you will find that are willing to allow that,” the captain said without uncovering her face.

“You are unaccustomed to using your feminine charms. I do not foresee a problem gaining compliance.”

“Good night, Seven,” Kathryn said with a groan, getting to her feet. This woman was going to be her undoing.

***

On her first day in engineering, Seven increased the efficiency of the warp engines by one point three percent.

“How did you do that?” B’Elanna insisted when the logs failed to show her what actions the Borg had taken.

“Should I not have increased efficiency?” Seven asked, the angry tone in B’Elanna’s voice alerting her to a problem.

“I want to know how you did it and why there’s no record of your actions in the maintenance logs!” B’Elanna said animatedly.

“I do not know how I did it, I simply did it,” Seven replied honestly. “One of my intramuscular implants interfaced with the warp core and was able to modify it for optimal performance.”

“One of your implants?” B’Elanna nearly shrieked, throwing up her hands. “You put your Borg tech—” She stopped talking when Seven flinched back away from her, recalling the situation they had freed the Borg from and quickly lowering her hands. “You put your Borg technology into my warp core? Without asking?”

Seven tried to slow her rapid breathing, knowing instinctively that B’Elanna was not about to burn through her body and attach electrodes to her abdominal implant, but her reflexes were too well trained to avoid flinching away. “I am sorry,” she said, turning her face away from the other woman. “I was only intending to make myself useful.”

B’Elanna cursed her quick temper and forced in a few calming breaths. “The outcome will be very useful,” she tried to explain. “But we have protocols to follow. You can’t just go around interfacing with the ship’s systems without permission. There are about a million things that could go wrong if you’re the only one who knows what’s going on. Okay?”

“I am sorry,” Seven repeated, still unable to make herself look at B’Elanna. Fear was weakness. She did not wish to appear weak. “What is the proper recourse for making such an error?”

“Just don’t do it again,” B’Elanna said with a shrug.

“That is all?” Seven asked, eyes finally snapping around to lock on B’Elanna’s.

“You already apologized. What more could I ask for?” the chief engineer replied, brow furrowed in curiosity.

“Mistakes were not tolerated in my previous… employ,” Seven explained haltingly. “Punishment was immediate and severe.”

“I see,” B’Elanna said, slowly nodding her head. “Well that’s not how we do things here.”

***

Now familiar screams woke the captain in the middle of the night and she again failed to consider the fact that Seven might have company, rushing into the woman’s quarters and sitting on the edge of the bed, immediately reaching out a hand to rub the blonde’s back. Gratefully the room was again otherwise empty. “I’m here, Seven,” she murmured soothingly, just loud enough to be heard over Seven’s soft cries.

“It burns,” Seven cried, turning into the comforting scent and sound of Captain Janeway, allowing herself to be held.

Kathryn’s arms went around the woman and held her close, stroking her back through her sleep shirt. “You’re safe now,” she promised. “No one is going to hurt you like that again.”

Seven slowly became more aware, shame flushing her cheeks at the compromising position she found herself in. Yet for some reason she could not force herself to withdraw from the captain’s embrace. “I made an error today in engineering. Lieutenant Torres was quite gracious about it. However, my initial response was fear of punishment and I believe that experience intensified my nightmare.”

The captain’s heart broke a little and she kissed the top of Seven’s head without thinking about it. “I’m sorry, Seven,” she said quietly. “I know it will take some getting used to, but we don’t punish mistakes on this ship unless they are deliberate or especially careless, and our punishments aren’t physical in nature.” She paused for a moment and then continued. “You said it burns. Does that mean you remember some of what you were dreaming about?”

Seven stiffened at the question but remained in the captain’s arms. “I do not wish to discuss it.” And at the last second she added in a rush, “please.”

“You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to talk about,” Kathryn assured her. “Things of a personal nature, I mean.”

Seven nodded in gratitude. “I do not understand why this position brings me comfort,” she changed the subject in her usual brusque manner.

“Being held by someone who cares for you is inherently comforting to most,” Kathryn explained. “Perhaps it perpetuates the sense that we’re not alone.”

“Perhaps your scent is calming to me and your touch is an extension of that,” Seven postulated.

“Perhaps,” Kathryn entertained the possibility. “But whatever the reason, I’m glad I am able to comfort you.”

“As am I.”

They fell into a comfortable silence for a few minutes until Seven broke it.

“You said punishments on this ship are not physical in nature. Please elaborate.”

“Your manners are improving quite nicely,” Kathryn teased. “That sounded more like a request than a demand.”

Seven hesitated. “I was told to use the word please when addressing you, Captain.”

“You were told?” Janeway asked, unable to completely hide her amusement at the notion. “Who told you that?”

“Ensign Kim.”

“I’ll have to thank him,” she said with a chuckle. “Now, to answer your question. Punishments on this ship can run from anything like a verbal warning to restriction of privileges to being relieved of duty, confined to quarters, and for serious offenses, a trip to the brig.”

“What would be categorized as a serious offense?”

“Putting oneself or anyone else in danger unnecessarily, deliberately causing harm to another, sabotaging any of the ship’s systems, theft, assault… things of that nature.”

“Why would any member of this crew sabotage this vessel?”

“We had a situation a while back where a crew member was unhappy here; didn’t like the way I do things, and he was feeding information to the Kazon. Had he not died in the confrontation he would have been thrown in the brig for that.”

“What about… destruction of property?”

“Are you referring to the observation lounge?”

Seven felt her cheeks heat up – a peculiar sensation. “I am.”

“You had just had your heart broken, Seven. We make allowances for certain circumstances. What you did was not malicious.”

“My heart broken?”

“What I mean to say is that you had just experienced extreme disappointment. In such times, we make allowances. No one was upset by your behavior in the observation lounge.”

“No one but myself. I understand,” Seven said with a firm nod. “My skin is warm where it touches yours, Captain.”

Captain Janeway, for once, didn’t know what to say, so she settled on a small hum of agreement and otherwise tried to ignore the statement. “I should try to get some sleep,” she offered in an attempt to sound casual when in fact Seven’s comment had her warm all over, not just where their skin touched.

“Of course, Captain,” Seven said, extracting herself from the embrace with utilitarian focus. When the captain was at the door, she spoke again, only somewhat awkward. “I thank you, for… caring for me.”

Kathryn’s heart skipped and she threw a lopsided smile over her shoulder as the doors whooshed open. “And I thank you for letting me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like the story, leave a comment with what you like about it so I'll know whether to continue! Thank you for reading.


	5. We Are In Agreement

“Lieutenant Torres,” Seven said as she approached her immediate superior upon presenting herself for her duty shift in engineering. “May I interface with the coolant systems in an attempt to correct the current problem?”

The alarm that had been going off for nearly an hour had everyone on edge. B’Elanna wouldn’t have cared if Seven requested bringing another Borg onto the ship to fix it, if only the damned thing would shut up. “Yes!” she agreed immediately. “Please do.”

Seven laid her left hand on the console and allowed her tubules to plug into the system. Precisely two point four seconds later the alarm ceased blaring.

“ _Coolant system regulated. Plasma overload averted_ ,” the computer informed them.

“Oh, Seven,” B’Elanna said with a sigh of relief. “I could kiss you.”

Seven turned to regard the half Klingon. She was used to dealing with the species. “That would be acceptable. However, I suggest you wait until our duty shifts have ended. I believe that is Starfleet protocol.”

B’Elanna snorted out a laugh and patted Seven’s shoulder. “It was just a figure of speech. I’m involved with Lieutenant Paris.”

“I see no reason he could not accompany you to my quarters. My stamina should prove within optimal limits to accommodate multiple sexual partners.”

Engineering was so silent that B’Elanna could suddenly hear herself breathe. All eyes were on them and she didn’t want to look like she couldn’t handle their resident Borg. So she raised an eyebrow, regarded Seven for a few interminable seconds, and smirked. “I’ll ask him.” She turned to survey the room. “Get back to work.”

***

That night, when the captain rushed to Seven’s quarters, she was met with the image of Tom Paris and B’Elanna Torres hurrying into their clothing. “Oh my God,” she said, shielding her eyes and turning around to leave. “My apologies.”

“Captain Janeway,” Seven called when she heard the captain’s voice.

Kathryn hesitated at the pleading note in the Borg’s voice. Tom and B’Elanna did seem like they were about to make a quick exit… “This is highly unusual, Seven,” she tried to explain, though she knew what she was really doing was stalling for time so she wouldn’t have to go.

“Sorry, Captain,” Tom muttered as he and B’Elanna all but ran out the doors, barely dressed and looking rather ragged.

“Sorry,” B’Elanna echoed as the doors whooshed shut behind them.

Once they were gone, Kathryn made her way to Seven’s side and sat with her.

“They do not understand the nature of my nightmares and are ill equipped to offer me comfort,” Seven said quietly.

“I’m guessing you have no idea how incredibly awkward that was for me,” the captain surmised in a gentle voice.

“I am sorry, Captain,” Seven apologized as she leaned into the offered embrace. “I did not intend for them to sleep in my quarters.”

“You must have worn them out,” Kathryn said with a rueful chuckle.

“I believe you are correct,” Seven agreed. “I regret that it caused you discomfort. That would never be my intention. Your opinion of me is… of great value to me. I do not understand why this is so, and am unable to change it.”

“It’s all right, Seven,” Kathryn murmured. “I wonder if the doctor could give you something to keep you from dreaming.”

“That would be most bittersweet.”

“How so?”

“I would no longer have nightmares, but you would no longer come to my quarters to comfort me.”

Kathryn hadn’t expected that and the air left her lungs in a rush. She was rendered speechless for the second time in as many nights. Her arms tightened protectively, hands squeezing Seven’s muscled arms in lieu of a verbal response. What could she possibly say to that?

Seven stiffened slightly. “I have made you uncomfortable.”

“No,” Kathryn assured her. “It’s my own thoughts that have made me uncomfortable. Not you.”

“Explain. Please.”

“I don’t know that I can explain,” Kathryn said with a sigh. “I’d have to go back to citing rules and regulations, and we’ve been through that before.”

“You wish to avail yourself of my body but your dedication to Starfleet protocol prohibits it,” Seven said with a nod. “I believe I understand.”

“Oh my,” Kathryn gasped, hiding her face in Seven’s hair and shaking her head. “I wouldn’t put it in those terms, no.”

“I am incorrect?”

“Not entirely…”

“Then I do not understand. Please explain.” Seven’s voice was gaining an edge of distress.

“I would never consider being with you to be availing myself of your body,” the captain attempted to organize her thoughts aloud. “I could never see you as less than a whole person, Seven. You are not some plaything to be used and discarded. Do I find you attractive? Oh yes, very much so. But would I exploit your need for closeness by taking you to bed? No, I would not. Nor could I see myself handling it well if we did become intimate and the next night you were with someone else.”

Seven’s jaw worked as she went over and over that information in her head, trying to sort it out. “You are unaware that I only become intimate with multiple partners because the partner I desire is unavailable to me.”

That hit Kathryn like a punch to the gut and her eyes went wide. “What?” she asked, allowing her voice to come out uncensored, low and smoky and confused.

“From the moment I saw you, that night in the tavern, I have desired you, Captain. The feeling was disconcerting at first because while I could enjoy sex, I never desired anyone specific. My nights were spent fulfilling the sexual needs of clients. This became routine; uneventful; uninspiring. I have required artificial lubrication for the past five years on all except the rarest of occasions, but when you stood up and tossed me that bag of coin from across the room, I _wanted_ you. I became… aroused. It was quite unusual and unexpected. I have become accustomed to it now and can draw on my desire for you to help me enjoy sex with others. Yet it is you, Captain, that fills my head during every waking moment. It is you I think about in the mornings when I wake. It is you I wish to spend all my nights with. It is you, Captain Janeway, that makes me aroused with merely a glance. A shred of your attention can cause my cortical synapses to malfunction. I have never been affected by emotions in this manner and do not know how to proceed.”

Kathryn sat there for a few interminable seconds, trying to remember how to breathe. She couldn’t possibly sort out all of the feelings the Borg’s confession evoked, at least not without a few hundred hours to herself. Finally she breathed, “your ability to render me speechless exceeds my usual ability to find words in any situation…”

“You do not experience the same craving. I will adapt,” Seven misinterpreted the captain’s response.

“Seven,” Kathryn said quickly when the blonde started to retreat. “I experience a craving the like of which I’ve never felt before. I also don’t know how to proceed.”

“Because I am your subordinate, because I am female, or because of my intellectual superiority?” Seven asked, one eyebrow arching.

Captain Janeway couldn’t help a snort of laughter at the Borg’s arrogance. “The first one, Seven,” she said dryly. “The first one.”

“My question has amused you.”

“The casual arrogance with which you asked it is what amused me,” Kathryn clarified.

“Arrogance. Having an exaggerated sense of one’s importance or abilities. You believe I am not intellectually superior?”

“The truth of the statement is irrelevant. The arrogance comes from the fact that it’s rude to bring one’s superiority to another’s attention. If you’re smarter than someone, don’t tell them,” she said with a quirky smile.

“I do not understand.”

“Imagine if I referred to myself as emotionally superior to you. How would that be for you, Seven?”

“It would be truthful. You are emotionally superior to me, Captain.”

“But my pointing it out doesn’t make you feel bad?”

“No. It gives me something to strive for.”

“Well that’s where we’re different, I suppose.”

Seven’s eyes suddenly widened the slightest bit and her breathing went shallow. “I have damaged you,” she said, her voice raised with alarm. Her heart was pounding against her chest in a most uncomfortable fashion and she felt the sting of tears behind her eyes, her entire consciousness focused on the fact that she had caused damage to the person she cherished above all else. “Captain please,” she begged. “Please forgive me. I would never wish to cause you harm.”

Kathryn melted at the Borg’s distress, running her fingers through silky blonde hair and shaking her head. “There’s nothing to forgive,” she whispered. “I know you wouldn’t intentionally harm me. And the harm done was truly, truly minimal. Just the slightest bruising to my ego, that’s all.”

“But I have harmed you, despite my intentions. I deserve punishment. You must—”

“Seven,” Kathryn interrupted, putting a finger over the Borg’s lips to quiet her. “I am undamaged.”

Seven stopped talking at the finger on her lips, reaching out a hand to lay her palm over the captain’s chest, fingers slowly squeezing into a fist around the captain’s bathrobe. She closed her eyes and just breathed, using considerable strength of will to avoid pursing her lips or opening her mouth.

Kathryn realized the intimacy of the gesture she was making and carefully moved her hand away, letting it drop back to her lap. Seven still had ahold of her bathrobe and she glanced down, thinking the Borg’s enhanced fingers looked quite good clutching the silk. Something about red and silver was complementary.

Seven followed the captain’s gaze and removed her hand immediately, flexing her fingers, staring at them as if they had their own consciousness; their own will. “I am certain you need sleep,” she said abruptly, wishing for the first time in her life that she had more social awareness and could find a better way to express herself. In the absence of that, she did not wish to seem vulnerable and so relied on her usual manner of changing the subject.

Kathryn recognized the statement for what it was and rose from the bed with a nod. “You are correct.” _Though I won’t be able to sleep any more tonight, my dear_ …

“I am aware. Good night, Captain. Thank you for your comfort, as always.”

“Any time,” Kathryn said softly, and when she was almost at the door Seven’s voice reached her ears.

“Captain, I will ask the doctor for some medication if you no longer wish to—”

Janeway held up a hand to stop her. “Seven…” She should really encourage the idea, but selfish desires plagued her, too strong to resist. “That won’t be necessary. Unless you wish it.”

“I do not.”

“Then we are in agreement. Good night…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like the story, leave a comment with what you like about it so I'll know whether to continue! Thank you for reading.


	6. Proceed

The next morning, Seven took her first trip to the bridge. Ensign Kim had promised to give her a tour before her duty shift. She showed up bright and early, in uniform, ready to proceed. As she stepped off the turbolift and prepared to greet Ensign Kim, Voyager lurched sideways and everyone almost toppled over. She grabbed the railing in front of her and was able to keep her footing.

“What was that, Mr. Paris?” Janeway asked, annoyed.

“Just a little turbulence, Captain. Nothing to worry about,” Tom replied, throwing a smirk over his shoulder. “Oh, Captain, I think you have a visitor.”

Janeway’s head snapped around, an eyebrow raising when she saw Seven of Nine on the bridge.

“Ensign Kim promised to give me a tour before my duty shift, Captain,” Seven said, standing upright with her hands behind her back, then quickly grabbed the railing again as Voyager made another lurch sideways.

“Mr. Paris!” Janeway shouted, her mild annoyance escalating to aggravation.

“Sorry, Captain, there was nothing I could do. It came out of nowhere. I think that should be the last of it, though.”

“I hope so,” Chakotay said, smoothing the front of his uniform, then holding the arms of his chair just to be safe.

Harry came out from behind his station and approached the Borg. “You were staring at the captain that whole time,” he noted.

“Looking at the captain makes me sexually aroused,” Seven replied matter-of-factly. “I am ready for my tour.”

The bridge went silent, all eyes on Janeway, and she prayed the ship would toss them all sideways again. No such luck. Maybe she should just pretend she hadn’t heard that.

To everyone’s surprise, it was Chakotay who lost his composure, trying to stifle his laughter by pretending to cough into his fist.

“Chakotay!” Kathryn hissed.

“I have said something wrong,” Seven announced when she heard the first officer’s laughter and saw the look on Ensign Kim’s face.

Harry stumbled over his words trying to reassure her. “Oh, no, it’s just—I mean—well it’s like this, Seven. We don’t talk about personal things on the bridge.” That seemed like a fairly benign way to put it. He didn’t want to make her more self-conscious.

Captain Janeway knew her cheeks were bright red and she sat as businesslike as humanly possible, back straight, legs crossed at the knee, but with a hand pinching the bridge of her nose. She hoped it may look like she was warding off a headache and not like she was about to die of embarrassment.

Once Seven and Harry finished the tour of the bridge and were in the turbolift heading to their next location, Chakotay stopped trying to keep from laughing and doubled over, covering his face with his hands. “With all due respect, Captain,” he whispered for her ears only, “what in the hell?”

She sighed and finally lowered her hand, glancing sideways at her first officer. “There is not an answer in the galaxy I can give you that wouldn’t make me look bad,” she replied quietly. “Suffice it to say we’re working through some issues.”

“I’ll say,” Chakotay chuckled. “Though I must admit… if I had a gorgeous woman who felt that way about me…” He let his sentence trail off, sure she would catch his meaning.

Janeway shot him a look. “Don’t encourage me.”

***

B’Elanna looked up as Seven reported for her duty shift, a smirk pulling at her lips. “I hear that looking at the captain makes you sexually aroused,” she teased. “Did you really say that in front of her? In front of the entire bridge crew?”

“Yes,” Seven said, straightening up and clasping her hands behind her back in her customary ‘at attention’ posture. “I was told I was in error.”

“Error? Please, no. I would have _paid_ to see that. What did she do?”

Seven’s head tilted slightly. “She did nothing.”

Tom hadn’t given her the whole story, just relayed Seven’s intriguing statement through a coded message to her primary console. “She wasn’t the one who told you you were in error?”

“No,” Seven said, shifting impatiently. “This conversation is irrelevant. I wish to proceed with my duties.”

“Who told you you were in error?” B’Elanna pressed. “I have to have the whole story, it’s killing me.”

“False. You are undamaged,” Seven pointed out, but when B’Elanna just stared at her expectantly, she sighed and relayed the rest of the incident. “Ensign Kim informed me that matters of a personal nature are not discussed on the bridge, then proceeded to give me a tour of the ship.”

“That’s it? Captain Janeway didn’t reprimand you or grit her teeth and order you to her ready room and ream you a new asshole?”

“I am unfamiliar with that phrase, but as I said, Captain Janeway did nothing.”

“Well then maybe looking at you makes her sexually aroused, too,” B’Elanna offered, only half joking.

“I believe it does. However, it is clear that Captain Janeway is prohibited from fraternizing with me by Starfleet protocol and that she intends to adhere to that protocol.”

“I don’t know, Seven,” B’Elanna said thoughtfully. “Starfleet protocol would have had her disciplining you for that comment. The fact that she didn’t say anything to you actually says a lot.”

“Perhaps she is, to use a human phrase, ‘cutting me some slack’ because I am new to this collective.”

“Starfleet protocol doesn’t permit cutting anyone any amount of slack, new or not,” B’Elanna insisted.

“I am content to be a member of this coll—this crew,” Seven insisted back. “I intend to respect Captain Janeway’s adherence to her duty. It is admirable. It is… Borg.”

B’Elanna finally shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Seven glanced down and back up to the lieutenant. “Is my attire insufficient?”

“Sorry, I forgot. Suit yourself just means… have it your way.”

“I understand. It is an expression of acquiescence to my superior logic.”

B’Elanna snorted and shook her head. “Get to work, Borg.”

***

As she was retiring for the night, there was a knock on her door. “Enter,” she called, surprised to see the captain step into her quarters. “Captain Janeway.” She stood at attention in the middle of the room, clad in her pink silk pajamas. She had already taken her hair down for bed and she had to give a slight shake of her head to get it back behind her right shoulder and out of her face. “How may I be of assistance?”

“At ease, Seven,” Kathryn said, walking in further and taking a seat on the foot of the bed.

Seven remained standing at attention but turned to face the captain.

“At ease,” Kathryn repeated, patting the space next to her. “That means relax.”

“I cannot,” Seven said, though she did relent just enough to take a seat beside the captain. “Please state your intentions.” She was suddenly nervous that the captain was there to discipline her for her comment that morning.

“I don’t know what my intentions are, exactly,” Kathryn said softly. “I suppose I just wanted to talk… to see you, maybe. Duties kept us busy today. I’m used to having at least one meal with you.”

“You are here because you wish to consume nutritional biomatter with me?”

“No… I’ve already eaten, I’m just saying it was strange not to see you at all today. With the exception of your brief performance on the bridge this morning, that is.”

“Am I to be disciplined?” Seven blurted out unceremoniously, unable to take the suspense any longer.

“Disciplined?” Kathryn asked, both eyebrows raising. “No, of course not. Why would you be disciplined?”

“Lieutenant Torres informed me that the usual recourse for making such an error would be immediate discipline. I wondered if mine was simply going to be less immediate.”

“I’ll admit I was embarrassed, but you haven’t done anything wrong,” Kathryn said gently, running her fingers through Seven’s hair. It seemed that when it was loose, she could not resist. “You were not intending to be insubordinate with your statement, you’re just accustomed to telling the truth, and that’s what you did.”

“I regret to have caused you embarrassment. I was not aware of the restrictions on the bridge regarding discussion of personal matters. It will not happen again.”

“There are no such restrictions,” the captain attempted to explain. “Ensign Kim was just trying to be diplomatic. He didn’t want to make you feel bad.”

Seven’s eyes narrowed at the apparent deception. “Explain. Please.”

“There is a hierarchy inherent in Starfleet. A captain is at the top, at least on a starship. To say something sexual about a captain in front of his or her crew… well… it’s just not done. There are no regulations prohibiting your freedom of speech, it’s merely a social construct.”

Seven spent a moment wrapping her mind around that and understanding became clear. “I believe I understand. A captain is the alpha male or female and may not be seen as an object of desire. To place a leader in a position of objectification could undermine his or her authority in the eyes of his or her subordinates.”

Kathryn figured that was as close an explanation as anything, so she nodded. “More or less.”

Seven nodded in return and sat up straighter. “I regret my candor. I am not accustomed to being subversive, but I will attempt to conceal my desire for your objectification, Captain.”

“Oh, Seven,” Kathryn almost laughed, moving her hand from Seven’s hair to rest against a pale cheek. “Your candor is actually most refreshing. At least in private, that is.” She let her hand fall back to her lap.

Seven’s cortical implant arched as she regarded Captain Janeway. “Oh? Would you care for me to again bestow upon you the gift of my candor?”

 _Slippery slope, Kathryn_ … “I believe I would.”

“What is the subject of inquiry?”

“Elaborate on this morning’s statement.”

Seven felt a warmth spread low in her belly. “I will comply.” She shifted position so she was facing the captain, one knee drawn up onto the bed, her hands resting on her lower leg. “Looking at you makes me sexually aroused,” she repeated the statement in question. “My cardiac output increases, my vascular pathways begin to pulsate, and I become lubricated between my legs, Captain, with my body’s own secretions. This is a new sensation for me, one that I cannot decide whether I enjoy. The sensation itself is enjoyable. However, spending time roaming the ship with wet undergarments is considerably less enjoyable. On several occasions I have considered going without them to circumvent the difficulty. I have utilized twenty-two point four percent of my replicator rations on dry underwear.”

Kathryn couldn’t help a throaty chuckle even as her stomach clenched with nerves. “That must be very frustrating for someone so used to being efficient,” she whispered, her hand returning to Seven’s cheek, fingers twitching against the soft skin there.

“Affirmative,” Seven agreed, eyes fluttering closed. “I miscalculated an angle of trajectory by point zero zero one percent this afternoon because I was preoccupied with your favorable scent.”

“One thousandth of a percent, Seven? You realize you are the only one who can calculate the accuracy of any angle of trajectory past a tenth of a percent?”

“Precisely,” Seven said bitterly. “My calculation was too human. My efficiency was at a suboptimal level because _you_ make me feel too human. That thousandth of a percent margin of error was _your_ fault, Captain,” the Borg continued, her voice having gone from bitter to something decidedly less hostile. She slid metal-encased fingers up the captain’s arm and closed her hand around a slender wrist, removing the captain’s palm from her face. She could feel the velocity of her breathing kick her in the ribs and her nostrils flared in an attempt to regulate her breathing. She failed. She leaned forward and filled her lungs with air, then let it out into the captain’s ear along with a quiet hiss, “I must punish you.”

Captain Janeway was unprepared for the massive tumult of emotions that tore through her at that quiet hiss. Outrage. Intrigue. Hesitance. Curiosity. Arousal. Embarrassment. _Longing_. They all rushed her with relentless endurance, folding into one another, a non-linear assault that left her wrecked and winded. “I…” She started to protest, but that would just be delaying the inevitable. They were on a collision course no matter the angle of trajectory.

Seven waited, lips at the captain’s ear, her harsh breathing filling the small space between them. She did not speak; did not attempt to sway the captain’s decision. She had stated her intentions and now she must wait.

In the end, it was Seven’s labored breaths panting out against the sensitive skin of her ear that did her in. Her voice caught, her mouth almost too dry to speak. A million questions and objections swarmed her throat but a single word came out like sandpaper on gravel. “Proceed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like it, leave a comment with what you like about it! Thanks for reading :)


	7. You Will Comply

Seven had anticipated rejection in at least one of many forms, and the solitary permissive element of speech that penetrated her cerebral cortex flooded her body with endorphins. It would not do to seem eager so she called upon her vast reserves of self-control in order to appear unaffected. She drew in a tempered breath and spoke evenly. “We will begin with your apology.”

Kathryn’s eyes closed hard and her breath expelled in a rush. How incredibly presumptuous of Seven of Nine. And yet… if she had been standing, her knees would have gone weak. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, feeling slightly strange at apologizing for something that in truth was not under her control.

Seven continued to temper her breathing, the captain’s responses too thrilling to relax her self-control. “I do not believe you, Captain. I suggest you increase your effort and try again.”

Kathryn almost barked out a laugh but tamped it down at the last second, instead marshaling her resources to try again. “I’m sorry, Seven,” she said softly but clearly. “It was never my intention to make you feel inefficient.”

“I not only felt inefficient, I _was_ inefficient,” Seven corrected her. “However, this apology outshines the first and I find it acceptable.”

Was she supposed to say thank you? Seven continued before she found her voice, relieving her of the decision.

“You will remove your bathrobe,” Seven directed next. “Hang it on the back of the lavatory door and return to stand before me.”

Kathryn’s cheeks flushed at the command even though she wore a nightgown under the robe. She got to her feet and slid the silk from her shoulders, walking carefully to Seven’s lavatory and hanging it on the door as directed. She caught sight of herself in the mirror, and rather than feeling ashamed, she thought the flush looked good on her skin. Soft steps carried her back across the room and she stood at attention, Seven’s customary pose, in front of the Borg.

Seven stood, mirroring the pose. “Remove your nightgown and hand it to me.” She extended her right hand.

Kathryn finally balked, her cheeks now flaming red, and she had to object. “Seven, I—”

“You will comply,” Seven said, her voice going from neutral to a clear reprimand. “Remove your nightgown and hand it to me. Now, Captain.”

Kathryn gasped, fingers dropping to the hem of her nightgown, her breathing picking up at the sudden forcefulness in Seven’s demeanor. Her stomach fluttered wildly as she started to inch the garment up her thighs.

“That is insufficient. Increase your rate of compliance immediately or I will tear the garment from your body and be most displeased.”

Breathing significantly labored now, Kathryn forced herself to lift the nightgown over her head and place it in Seven’s outstretched hand, leaving her in nothing but a pair of black satin panties. Her face burned as she stood at attention, nipples straining toward the blonde. She had never felt this exposed before, and it was as scary as it was exciting.

Seven pressed her tongue against the back of her teeth at the sight of a mostly naked Captain Janeway standing at attention in her quarters, awaiting punishment. She was proud of her captain for not even inquiring about the nature of the punishment. _The_ captain. She was proud of _the_ captain. “Your body is _quite_ sufficient,” she said, her tone of voice that which could almost be considered lascivious while the look on her face was decidedly so. She turned and draped the nightgown over the chair at her vanity, then turned back to the captain. Her nostrils flared again as she tried to subdue the intensity of her emotions. “Remove your undergarment.”

Kathryn’s jaw dropped and she immediately argued. “Seven, I can’t…”

Seven clenched both hands into fists as she stepped up to the captain, right into the older woman’s personal space. She flexed her fingers, reminding herself quickly that Captain Janeway was not a Klingon or a Zaldan or a _client_ ; that this was a personal encounter and she must find a way to gain compliance without resorting to choking or slapping. At least not yet. Not until she had determined the captain’s position on such things. So she gently took hold of shaking hands and guided them to the garment in question. “You will comply,” she insisted, her voice quiet but hard.

Kathryn thought her knees were going to buckle, humiliation flushing scarlet across her throat and down her chest. Was this a mistake? Had it already gone too far? “I—”

Seven promptly turned the captain around with a firm grip on one arm and applied a stinging smack to her backside. She calmly put them both back to their previous positions and repeated herself. “You will comply.”

Kathryn thought her face was going to erupt into flames. Had Seven really just spanked her like a misbehaving child? Was she… acting like a misbehaving child? Whatever the psychology behind it, the swat had the intended effect and she gave a weak push on her panties, starting to inch them down.

Seven waited more patiently this time, but only just. She knew this directive was especially difficult for this particular starship captain and was pleased that she had gained any measure of compliance. She watched as beautiful eyes closed; watched the black satin sink lower and lower until the captain stepped out of the garment and straightened up.

Kathryn had never felt quite this level of anticipatory arousal in her entire life. She didn’t know what Seven was going to do and somehow that only heightened her interest. The embarrassment of being naked in front of a member of her crew paled in comparison to the throbbing ache between her thighs. If she were alone she would already be halfway to orgasm by now.

“Retrieve your undergarment. You will use it to clean and polish my replicator until I am satisfied with your efforts.”

Kathryn just stared at her, dumbfounded, trying to make sense of that directive.

“If necessary for your motivation to comply, I am not averse to applying another swat to your backside, Captain.”

Kathryn spluttered out random syllables in an attempt to form a protest, but when Seven took a step toward her she picked up her panties and headed for the replicator. This was entirely inappropriate. And what a ridiculous punishment, given the parameters of this encounter. What did Seven hope to accomplish by making her clean appliances?

Seven stood at attention, eyes like a hawk trained on the captain’s every movement.

Kathryn’s opinion changed the moment she touched the satin of her panties to the face of the replicator and began to clean it. She gasped softly, a wetness gathering between her legs that told her Seven knew exactly what she was doing. She had thought that such a mundane task would have no effect, but Seven had known better. Each stroke of satin across glass and metal, each streak of shine that followed in its wake, each second she stood there performing the task unraveled her a little bit more. She would not have anticipated that being debased in this manner would excite her, but by the time Seven strolled casually over to examine her work, she was drenched, breathing hard and aching for the Borg’s attention.

Seven knew exactly how the punishment would affect the captain. And she was, of course, correct. She could hear the harsh breathing; smell the excitement. As she stopped beside the captain she experienced a rare moment of overwhelming instinct and had to turn her face away to avoid crushing their mouths together. Instead she coolly appraised the replicator for far longer than was necessary, then took the undergarment from the captain’s hand and strode to her vanity to deposit it on top of the discarded nightgown.

Kathryn tensed at Seven’s departure. Did that mean her efforts had been unsatisfactory? She had honestly done her best, wanting to make the replicator shine. “Seven?” she asked when the Borg had been quiet for several minutes and had not returned to her side. “Is it… sufficient?”

“I am feeling… overwhelmed.” Seven sank into the chair, hands gripping the armrests fiercely.

Kathryn turned and went to her immediately, concerned that something was wrong. “Are you all right? Should I call the doctor?”

“I am undamaged,” Seven recited the familiar denial of harm. “I am merely overwhelmed. I was aware of precisely how that punishment would affect you; however, I did not anticipate how it would affect me.”

“How did it affect you?” Kathryn asked quietly, searching the Borg’s gorgeous blue eyes for assistance.

Seven’s throat constricted as she swallowed. “Strongly.”

Kathryn couldn’t help a smile at the deflection and carefully lowered herself to sit on Seven’s lap. “I can see that. Would you care to elaborate?”

Seven’s arms went around the woman and held her tightly. “I would not.”

Kathryn settled into the embrace and laid her head on Seven’s shoulder. “Did I perform my task to your expectations?”

“You have exceeded my expectations.”

“Then is my punishment over?” Kathryn asked, her voice soft and hopeful.

Seven was unaccustomed to the sensation of being so close; so tender. The word ‘affirmative’ danced on the tip of her tongue but she changed her mind at the last second and instead said, “yes.”

Kathryn slowly lifted her head and reached a hand up to tuck some blonde hair behind the Borg’s right ear, her fingers brushing the starburst of metal as she did.

Seven gasped, her arm shooting up, fingers closing around the captain’s wrist and removing it from her skin to give her time to think.

“What’s wrong?” Kathryn asked, eyes going from Seven’s face to her restraining hand and back to her face. “Did it hurt? Do they hurt?”

“No,” Seven said, her grip on the captain’s wrist tightening. “Give me a moment.”

Seven was impressively strong and Kathryn knew she would have fingerprints on her wrist. Somehow that didn’t bother her. She gave Seven a moment.

Seven sat stiffly, breathing in and out through her nose, trying to process the novel sensation. “No one has touched me there before,” she finally explained. “The area is… sensitive.”

“I’d like very much to touch you there again,” Kathryn said, her voice low and raspy. She liked the thought of doing something with Seven that the Borg had never done before. Some way to distinguish herself from the hundreds that Seven had been with.

This level of intimacy was uncharted for the Borg and a shiver raced up her spine. “I require time to adapt.”

“Take all the time you need,” Kathryn whispered, relaxing her arm in Seven’s grip.

Seven finally released her hold, her eyes drawn to the angry red marks left behind by her fingertips and she let out a quiet rush of breath. She was driven to apologize, but the look on the captain’s face as they regarded the marks together gave her pause. Suddenly she did not think an apology was necessary. “The marks I have left on your wrist excite you, Captain.”

It was not a question, and Janeway had no intention of lying. “Yes.”

“Explain.”

“It’s just a feeling, Seven,” Kathryn said softly. “I’m not sure I can explain.”

“Try. Please.”

“All right.” She ran one finger of her right hand across the marks on her wrist, her jaw tightening instinctively to ward off the rush of arousal. “In the morning… when I put on my uniform and take my place on the bridge, the cuff of my sleeve will hide the marks. But I’ll still know they’re there. I’ll still feel the ghost of your grip; feel how tightly you held me; remember sitting naked in your lap as you did so.”

Seven shifted her hips. “I believe I understand.”

Kathryn felt the shift. “I believe you do.”

“I wish to touch you, but I am not ready for you to touch me in return. Is this acceptable?”

“No, but I’ll make due,” Kathryn replied with a gentle smirk. She was amazed how comfortable she was with this development in their relationship and she once more laid her head on Seven’s shoulder. “Answer me something?”

“Of course, Captain.”

“Why hasn’t anyone touched you there before?”

“My zygomatic implant?” Seven asked, and at the captain’s nod, she nuzzled her nose into auburn hair and inhaled her favorite scent. “Because I did not allow it. I did not allow any of my clients to touch me at all beyond what was strictly necessary for copulation.” The captain had asked her to call it sex but she felt in this instance that calling it copulation would be acceptable. “They removed their clothing; I removed only my underwear and preferred to remain in my dresses. Most of my clients did not complain. Those that did complain, I was punished… but I still refused to comply. It was the one thing I felt I could control given the constraints of my situation.”

Kathryn’s heart broke a little more until she felt fingers under her chin, lifting her head, and saw the light in Seven’s eyes.

“Do not worry, Captain. You freed me from that life. You have given me a home and a family and a meaningful profession that has allowed me to regain a sense of self-worth. Do not stray to the past when the present is so full of… perfection.”

“I don’t know about perfection,” Kathryn teased. “You made me clean your replicator with my best satin panties.”

“What was not perfect about that?” Seven asked, arching an eyebrow.

A small laugh spilled out of Captain Janeway’s mouth and she gave Seven one of her rare thousand-watt smiles. “I suppose I can’t argue,” she acquiesced.

“Your amusement is predictable,” Seven said with another arched eyebrow, then tilted her head slightly toward the captain. Her voice changed then, from a simmer to a boil, and her eyes cut to Captain Janeway’s mouth. “Kiss me,” she breathed, trailing a finger up the captain’s arm.

Kathryn could feel every skin cell on her arm reacting; a trail up toward her shoulder, and then Seven’s hand smoothed over it on the way to her neck. She looked at Seven from under fluttering lashes, her left hand coming to lay on Seven’s bicep, just below the implant there. Her eyes were drawn briefly to where her fingers rested, then back to Seven’s face as she closed the small distance and pressed her mouth to the Borg’s. She had never kissed someone quite so gently before, her lips barely feathering across Seven’s instantly parted ones.

Seven wanted more. She wanted more; she wanted everything. “You are not required to be gentle with me,” she whispered when the captain made no attempt to deepen the kiss.

“Oh, but I want to,” Kathryn murmured, brushing her mouth over Seven’s again, then a third time, finally lingering long enough to slide her tongue over the Borg’s pouting lower lip. The resulting gasp from this infinitely experienced woman made her feel powerful. Distinctive. Unique.

Seven was shaking with need, her hand tightening on the back of the captain’s neck. “Please,” she exhaled roughly. “Captain, please.” She was unaccustomed to wanting more. Sex had first been a tool, then a routine, then a comfort. Now it was something else entirely, something unrecognizable from how she had come to know it. Her nipples begged for attention and yet another pair of underwear was ruined.

“Please what, Seven?” Kathryn asked, sliding her hand from Seven’s arm up to run through blonde hair. “What can I give you? What do you need?”

“More kissing,” Seven panted softly. “More touching.” She slid her arms beneath the older woman and stood with the captain in her grip. “I wish to spread your legs and see your…” She paused speaking on her way to the bed, wanting to use a word that would heat the captain’s blood, not a technical term for female genitalia. She scanned her databanks and decided, tossing the captain onto the middle of the bed and standing above her, breathing fast, a leer pulling one corner of her lips. “I wish to see your _cunt_.”

The word had the intended effect.

Kathryn gasped, staring at Seven with her jaw dropped, then ran her hands over her face as a shiver tore through her body. She had not realized she would be a fan of that word until she heard it from Seven of Nine’s lips.

Seven climbed onto the bed on her knees, nudging her way between the captain’s ankles. “Comply.”

Kathryn shook slightly as she inched her knees apart, stopping before Seven could really get a good view. “I feel… vulnerable,” she whispered.

“How can I alleviate that feeling?” Seven whispered back, leaning down to place a kiss on the top of a trembling thigh. She lingered, pressing another kiss, then took to drawing tiny patterns with the tip of her tongue.

Kathryn couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped, her shaking almost violent by now. “It’s all right,” she breathed. “It’s just new.”

“You do not wish me to alleviate the feeling?” Seven asked to be sure she understood.

“I don’t think anything could alleviate it,” Kathryn explained. “I want you to see, I simply cannot force myself to comply.”

“I understand,” Seven replied with a nod, placing her hands on each of the captain’s knees and applying pressure, her insistence gentle but firm, and the captain’s cunt was revealed to her gaze, beautiful and swollen and _wet_. She was unprepared for the rush of longing that asserted itself low in her abdomen; unprepared for the visceral urge that gripped her, refusing to allow her to wait any longer to taste Captain Janeway. She ducked her head and ran her tongue through the glistening folds, gathering the evidence of the captain’s arousal and pulling it into her mouth with a strangled noise of pleasure.

There was nothing soft about Kathryn’s moan this time and she arched her back off the bed, chasing the sensation. Her eyes squeezed shut and she willed her thighs to stay parted and not clamp down on Seven’s head to trap her there. “Seven,” she panted.

“Your taste is superior to all others, Captain,” Seven informed her before ducking her head again and sliding her tongue up and down, slightly inside, then swirled her way to the captain’s clitoris and sucked it entirely into her mouth.

Kathryn didn’t have time to process the compliment before she cried out in surprise, warmth suffusing her from the outside in, and she strained to hold still, to let Seven set the pace. Her hips bucked anyway and she reached a hand down to stroke through blonde hair, hoping the gesture would be read as encouraging without being demanding.

Seven worked the captain up quickly, unable to control herself once she’d had a taste. She knew she was talented in the art of cunnilingus, she had been told on many occasions, but her previous encounters had been tactical; this was instinct and passion. She did not adhere to a pattern; did not plan ahead to achieve maximum effect. She immersed herself in the experience, feeling and tasting and hearing as if it were the first time. And in a way she supposed it was. She pushed her tongue inside and gripped the captain’s thighs, pushing them further apart, her fingertips digging in until the captain whimpered.

Kathryn was beside herself, throwing her head from side to side, unable to find a comfortable position. She could sense that this was a new experience for Seven emotionally and it heightened her enjoyment, making her feel even more connected to the Borg. On top of that, Seven’s tongue was wicked and so were her teeth. Bruises forming on her thighs to match her wrist only turned her on harder, and soon her hips were in constant motion, seeking release as the pressure built up.

Seven was making her own little noises as she licked and sucked and bit the older woman to breaking point, then slid two metal-encased fingers inside the captain’s cunt as she started to come.

Kathryn hadn’t expected fingers inside her as she crashed over the edge and she gave a loud cry, her thighs tightening as her body shook with release, endorphins racing through her veins, bleeding her dry and leaving her a gasping mess. “My God,” she groaned when she could breathe again.

Seven withdrew her fingers and painted her way up the captain’s belly and chest, stretching out beside the gasping woman and finding her eyes. “My one thousand, seven hundred and forty-three previous sexual encounters were insufficient,” she decided.

Kathryn almost balked at the number but didn’t want to make Seven feel bad, so she focused on the sweetness of the sentiment instead and brought a hand to Seven’s face, pulling her in for a kiss. When their lips parted she allowed a small smirk. “You’re welcome,” she teased.

“I did not express gratitude,” Seven replied, then caught the smirk and raised an eyebrow. “You are making a joke.”

“Yes,” Kathryn grinned.

Seven’s lips pulled into their own hint of a smirk and she leaned closer to whisper in the captain’s ear. “I must not have _fucked_ you hard enough if you are able to make a joke this easily.”

Kathryn squeaked, her smirk vanishing, replaced by a grimace. “I—”

“Relax, Captain. I am also making a joke,” Seven said rather smugly.

Kathryn’s reply to that smug expression was to kiss Seven’s cortical implant.

Seven shrieked, sitting up, her hand flying to cover the arch of metal. The smirk was gone and she stared at the captain, breathing hard. “I believe that is what humans would call ‘playing dirty’,” she gasped when she found words.

“What can I say?” Kathryn shrugged. “I like to win.”

“Cheating is not an acceptable form of winning,” Seven said almost petulantly.

“It’s not cheating if no rules were established beforehand,” Kathryn pointed out.

“How logical of you,” Seven deadpanned.

“Come back down here for a proper kiss,” Kathryn rumbled, holding out her arms.

Seven’s expression was grumpy but she settled into the captain’s arms, their mouths coming together as if they’d been doing this forever.

When they broke apart, Kathryn placed little kisses along Seven’s jaw until her lips were a breath away from the Borg’s ear. “I want to touch you,” she purred, her voice lower than usual. “I want to see you. I want to make you feel things you’ve never allowed anyone to make you feel. I want to shatter you, Seven, in all the ways that matter. I’ve never felt quite like this and it scares me to death, but I want it. Badly. Will you let me try?”

Seven sucked in a shuddering breath and let it out on a whimper. She wished those things as well… was afraid as well, but unwilling to voice that fear. “You will stop if I ask it of you?”

“Without question,” Kathryn promised. “The moment you withdraw your permission I will withdraw my touch completely.”

Eyes closing in a rare moment of nervousness, Seven inclined her chin the slightest bit. “Proceed.”


	8. Mountain Goat

Kathryn kissed her, long and slow, running her fingers repeatedly through tousled blonde locks. She had touched Seven this way many times and thought to start with something familiar. After a few minutes of playing with the Borg’s hair, she let her hand continue down the back of Seven’s head and brush lightly across the side of a pale throat.

Seven was terrified of becoming vulnerable, but as much as the captain wished a connection with her that was different from her past, she wished a connection with the captain as well. She trusted Captain Janeway implicitly, and trust was not something she had experienced before. She trembled when she felt a hand on the side of her neck, the first intimate caress she had openly allowed in her existence.

“Are you all right?” Kathryn murmured, seeking Seven’s eyes with her own.

“I am undamaged,” Seven whispered.

“But are you all right? Is this all right?” Kathryn asked, lightly scratching her nails up and down the Borg’s throat.

Seven swallowed hard and tightened her jaw, sorting through her body’s reactions and those of her mind. It was frightening, but not unpleasant. “Yes,” she decided.

Kathryn nodded and feathered her fingers down further, over a bare shoulder, continuing down Seven’s arm until she could trace the outline of the implant on the Borg’s right bicep with one fingertip.

Seven shuddered and threw out an unrestrained moan, hands clenching into fists. Even with her elevated intellect she did not have words to describe the way it felt to have this woman touch her implants. The only word that registered was intense. She imagined it akin to a star going supernova.

Encouraged by that reaction, Kathryn traced it again, then closed her hand over it and squeezed, watching in amazement as Seven came apart at the seams.

“Captain!” the Borg shouted, goosebumps erupting over her entire arm, her hips jerking as she got up onto her hands and knees above the captain, hair falling over her shoulders to frame her lover’s beautiful face. She lowered herself to straddle one of the captain’s thighs and pressed herself down hard, her breathing erratic, almost frantic.

“No, Seven,” Kathryn said desperately, hands flying to Seven’s waist to stop her. “No no, let me, please,” she begged, attempting to move Seven off of her.

The Borg was immovable if she wished to be, but she honored the captain’s request, a keening whine leaving her lips as she gave up the stimulation and rolled onto her back. “You have ignited something that can no longer be contained,” she said, her voice breaking. “Please do not make me wait.”

Kathryn went above Seven on all fours, effectively reversing their previous positions. “I’m not trying to make you wait,” she promised. “I just want it to be me that makes you come.”

Seven groaned, writhing beneath the older woman. “Acknowledged.”

Kathryn couldn’t believe how absolutely sexy Seven looked, splayed out and desperate like this. Her fingers curled around the waist of the Borg’s pajama pants and she steadily pulled them downward, not wanting to go too fast in case Seven protested, but not wanting to go too slow and drive her lover crazy.

Seven was nervous, but she lifted her hips to allow the garment past them, then sat up and put her arms above her head so Captain Janeway could remove her pajama top.

Kathryn tugged the pants off over Seven’s legs, then quickly tugged off the shirt, tossing both onto the vanity before turning to survey absolute perfection. She left Seven’s lacy white underwear in place, her eyes drawn to the sleek metal lines slanting across a flat stomach. “You are exquisite,” she breathed, urging Seven back down, then resuming her own position on all fours. One hand stroked across a naked hip, down the outside of one thigh, and when her fingers crawled from the outside to the inside, she was infinitely pleased when Seven spread her legs and bucked her hips. She remembered something the Borg had said and a wicked little smile twitched at one corner of her mouth as she asked a question. “Do you require artificial lubrication, Seven?”

“No,” Seven groaned again, “I am sufficiently lubricated. Proceed, Captain, _please_.”

Kathryn didn’t want to let the begging go to her head and she didn’t want to upset Seven with teasing, so she slid her hand the rest of the way up and pushed the lacy fabric aside, probing instantly into wet heat with two fingers. They slipped in easily and her eyelids fluttered in an attempt to remain open. Fuck, Seven was warm. And slick.

Seven arched her back and wound her hands into her own hair, overwhelmed by physical and emotional sensation. “Please, Captain, please,” she continued to beg, bordering on incoherency.

Kathryn pumped her fingers quickly in and out, her thumb circling Seven’s clit in time with her thrusts, and when it wasn’t quite enough, she dropped her head and sucked on Seven’s cortical implant.

Seven screamed and grabbed the headboard behind her as she was thrown violently into an orgasm, her entire body shuddering and shaking as the pleasure ripped through her like it never had before. It had been rare for her to achieve orgasm in the past and certainly nothing like this. She had _certainly_ never screamed.

Kathryn was a bit overwhelmed herself and eased off of the implant, not wanting to send her Borg into convulsions. She slowed the pace of her hand as she drew Seven’s orgasm out, riding it with her, and only withdrew her fingers when the blonde collapsed beneath her in tears.

Seven wasn’t sure which way was up, only that she had so many emotions assaulting her at once that she had no idea what to do. She realized she was crying when she tasted the salt of her tears.

“Seven,” Kathryn said soothingly, stretching on her side and pulling Seven into her arms, stroking her hair. “I’m here, my darling.”

“My clothing, Captain, please,” Seven requested, her voice strained and urgent.

“Of course,” Kathryn replied and released the Borg to sit up and reach over, grabbing Seven’s pajamas from the vanity. She helped get them on, hearing the urgency in Seven’s request, and when her lover was dressed she reached down for the blanket and pulled it up around them both, settling back down.

“Hold me again? Please?” Seven asked, upset with herself for ruining the tender moment by demanding her clothing. “If I have ruined my chances, I will adapt,” she added quickly.

“I don’t think you could ever ruin anything,” Kathryn breathed, gathering her up and squeezing her tight. “Especially not by having feelings. You took a big risk letting me in, trusting me, and it means the world. I would never withdraw from you because you asked for something you needed. Even if you had desperately demanded that I replicate you a mountain goat immediately in order to make you feel safe again, I’d replicate you a mountain goat and then pull you back into my arms. Understood?”

“Your example is absurd, but yes, Captain, I understand.” She hesitated a moment before resting her head on the captain’s shoulder. Strange, but comfortable. A different type of vulnerability than being naked or being touched. A thought occurred to her and she tilted her face up without sacrificing her comfortable position. The captain seemed very comfortable as well. “Is it your intention to… spend the night?”

“If that’s all right with you, yes,” Kathryn said, pulling her chin back so she could look at Seven.

“I have no objection,” Seven replied, tilting her face back down and pressing it into the side of the captain’s neck.

“Then we are in agreement,” Kathryn nodded, unable to keep the grin from her lips. Her arms tightened around her lover and she pressed a kiss to the top of Seven’s head. “Good night, Seven.”

“Good night, Captain.”


End file.
